


One Last Thing

by Soleya



Series: Fifty First Dates [2]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-02-23 14:55:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23713288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soleya/pseuds/Soleya
Summary: Okay, this one's not really a date.  But it adheres to the spirit of it.
Relationships: Samantha "Sam" Carter/Jack O'Neill
Series: Fifty First Dates [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1707853
Comments: 18
Kudos: 116





	One Last Thing

Jack didn’t know what he’d been thinking. A final cookout at his place had seemed like a good idea at the time, but in practice, it was somber and awkward and all the things he’d hoped to avoid. Teal’c and Daniel stood in deep, intent discussion a few feet off the deck, and Carter sat alone in one of the Adirondack chairs a few feet from the grill, quiet. She was quiet most of the time these days, and Jack’s last hurrah felt more like Jacob’s funeral activities, part thirty-seven. He rolled a brat over on the grates to inspect the underside as he asked, “You doin’ okay?”

Caught, she snapped from her reverie. “Yeah. Sorry. Are you waiting on me?”

“Nope. Could use a clean plate, though, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure. Of course.” Sliding out of the chair, she ducked through the screen door.

“We’ll be ready in a minute,” Jack told the other two and got nods in response, though they kept talking.

Carter returned, handing him the plate but not heading back to her chair, and Jack thought maybe that was worse. He had no idea what to say to her; he’d covered all the platitudes a thousand times over in the two weeks since Jacob’s death and the end of her engagement. “The burger’s’ll be a bit, but the brats are done,” he decided, stabbing the first sausage to move it to the plate.

The quiet came back for a minute, awkward. And then she said, obviously looking for small talk, “So, the movers are going to pack everything up?”

“I guess.”

Her head tilted a bit. “You guess?”

“I mean, that’s what they said. I’ve never…. I’ve never actually been around for that part before. Sara always did it.” The second the word was out of his mouth, he regretted mentioning his ex-wife. A little more awkwardness was the last thing they needed.

Sure enough, Carter said simply, “Oh.”

He cleared his throat. “You want me to put cheese on a burger for you?”

“No, thanks.”

And it went quiet. “Gotta shove some clothes in a suitcase tonight, I guess,” he said finally, needing something – anything – to break up the moroseness.

“What time's your flight, sir? I'll take you to the airport.”

He stabbed two more brats and stuck them on the serving plate. “I'll catch a cab.”

She blinked. “You don't need to do that.”

“Not my money,” he answered with a shrug. The last brat landed on the plate and he held it out to her, but she didn't take it. When he glanced up, the look on her face was one he knew well – hiding hurt.

“Look,” he said, turning his attention to scraping the grill grates, “I'm not big on goodbyes. And airport ones are the worst. I'll just – I'll get a cab.”

He saw the nod out of the corner of his eye, and she took the plate out of his hand. “Cab it is, then,” she said, and disappeared into the house.

~/~

She needed to fix her gutters. Sam watched as water dripped from an eave onto the porch railing and splattered. She wondered idly how long it had been leaking – but she had no idea, as she hadn't been home much over the past few months.

The gray mist that was just barely rain matched her mood. Not sad, not angry... just somber. And maybe a bit sullen.

He'd be at the airport by now. Gone in just a few hours. Daniel and Teal'c would ship out later in the week. It was hardly the end of the world; having just lost her father for good, she was well aware of the difference. Well aware that they were merely stepping away, not out of her life. Still, she sat on her porch and watched the rain, feeling sorry for herself.

She would miss this house. Hammond had approved her request for transfer to Nevada without question, which left her wondering whether he'd believed the story that she didn't want to bother General O'Neill in his transition, or if he'd seen straight through her motives and taken pity. Either way, if news of her reassignment had reached the other General, he hadn't said anything.

And he wouldn't. Nothing of import, anyway. She hadn't had a deep conversation with him in... she couldn't remember how long. Since the ring, maybe. Or Pete. Or that planet that killed her best friend and nearly took him. Since Daniel's ascension. Any real communication between them had been the silent type, which didn't bode well for a long-distance friendship.

Okay, maybe she was sad, after all. Setting her tea on the railing – out of reach of the drip – she tugged her cardigan more tightly around herself and tilted her head back, eyes closed. The mist was turning to true rain, landing on the roof and the leaves of her flowers in little plops. It changed the sound of the cars, too, and the whoosh of water under their tires was soothing, somehow. Maybe... maybe they reminded her that she wasn't alone. That there had been others before SG-1, and there would be others again. Someday.

A car slowed on the street, and she opened her eyes to see which neighbor was coming home. But it was a yellow cab that pulled up in front of her gate, and the man who stepped out what someone she'd thought long gone. The taxi idled at the curb as General O'Neill ducked through the rain and hurried to her porch.

She met him on the top step. “I thought you'd be at the airport by now, sir.”

“I was.”

She blinked. “Did they cancel your flight?”

“No. Carter... I told you I hate goodbyes, and I meant that. And maybe that's what this'll be, but I need to do it. This one last thing.”

She didn't know what that meant, and she didn't have time to ask. Taking her face gently in his strong hands, Jack tipped it up and pressed his lips to hers. He waited there for her reaction – for her to pull away – and it was a long moment before he got any response at all. But she stepped into him, their bodies flush as she returned the kiss. It was easy, tender, and he'd have held her there forever if he could.

But he couldn't, and they both knew it. She didn't break the embrace, but slid her cheek against his as she murmured, “I'd invite you in, but I'm afraid you'd miss your flight.”

“If you invite me in, Carter, I _know_ I'll miss my flight.”

She laughed, and it vibrated warmth through his chest. One small hand found his and tangled in his fingers. “Not goodbye,” she promised. “Go. I'll see you later.”

'It won't be easy,” he warned, one thumb gently brushing her cheek as she stepped back.

Her smile was unexpected. “It never has been. But here we are.”

“Here we are.” He dropped a gentle kiss on her forehead. “I'll call you when I get there.”

“You'd better. Now get off my porch.”

Grinning, he gave her hand one last squeeze and hurried back to his taxi.

~/~

Jack set an open box on top of the stack in the dining room. He hadn’t gotten much unpacked in a week – he really should have let the movers do that – and he was desperately trying to make the place look presentable. Which, in the short term, meant stacking the boxes neatly (well, only slightly haphazardly) along walls rather than leaving them open and spilling out all over the place. He wanted better, but it would have to do. He headed for another box, but his cell buzzed in his pocket. He’d been waiting for this call, and he snatched up his phone before the second ring. “Hey. You leaving soon?”

“Nice place,” Carter said.

He blinked. “What, the airport?” She was supposed to call him in Denver and let him know her arrival time.

“No,” she answered with a laugh. “I like the columns. Nice porch, too. It's a shame it's only temporary housing.”

No, she wasn't at the airport, but he was getting a pretty good idea where she was. Phone still to his ear, he headed for the front door. “Carter, are you standing outside my house?”

The laugh grew bigger, and he opened the door to hear it in person. There she stood, just at the top of the steps, her suitcase beside her. Both lowered their phones as he approached. “I told you I'd pick you up.”

“I know. I didn't want you to,” she said simply, reaching out to put her hands on his waist.

He returned the gesture, happy to have her in his arms again. “Why not?”

“Because this is where we left things,” she said, nodding toward the porch. “And where I wanted to start again.” Stepping in, she kissed him the same tender way they'd done a week before. And as she'd done then, she moved her cheek to his to murmur in his ear – but the words were far different. “Invite me in, Jack.”

Taking her hand and her luggage, he did just as she asked.


End file.
